Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse

I think page-turner is the term to describe Stephenie Meyer’s series: the books are almost addictive, but when you look beneath the surface you see a pretty simple story that has nothing to do with real life. Midway through the second book I got really disappointed with the author. You can’t just go back and edit the truth like that.

In this white night fantasy

The room is completely quiet, except for the sounds of our calm breathing, your bare steps on the warm wooden floor, and the crackling of the fire under the mantelpiece. Time melts in this warmness. There is no TV to shout the seconds; no city around us to tantalize us with its fireworks. Only the velvet night, softly uncurling itself around us. The faint light wavers with our every move, as if the candles were playing a game of their own, teasing us.